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Boris Pasternak - To the Memory of Demon
Work rating: Low

Used to come in the blue 
Of the glacier, at night, from Tamara. 
With his wingtips he drew 
Where the nightmares should boom, where to bar them. 

Did not sob, nor entwine 
The denuded, the wounded, the ailing… 
A stone slab has survived 
By the Georgian church, at the railings. 

Hunchback shadows, distressed, 
Did not dance by the fence of the temple. 
Soft, about the princess 
The zurna did not question the lamplight, 

But the sparks in his hair 
Were aglitter and bursting phosphorous, 
And the giant did not hear 
The dark Caucasus greying for sorrow.
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